


The Cave

by melitta4ever



Category: Strike Back
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-23 23:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13798506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: The boys are sent to a mission. Things don't go as planned. Then things get steadily worse. Scott meets a girl. Things get even worse...Oh, that's the summary of the show. Well... What's different? This time they actually volunteer for the opp, they get to see China and at times they get closer than when they were in the prison.





	1. Hard Landing

**Author's Note:**

> I've written most of the story (>12k) and in dire need of a beta. I'd appreciate if anyone is willing.

_ Deployment day _

 

“Incoming!” Pilot’s voice crackled in their headsets while the plane rocked with some crazy maneuver to avoid impact. “We can't go any further. Jump now!”

They were nowhere near their drop off yet. Damien spared a look to check with his partner. But the sergeant preparing them didn't let them spend a second more in the plane. He simply pushed them out with a “Fucking go!”

Before he could think, Damien was free falling. It took him a while to correct his posture and find the parachute controls, then his eyes searched for Stonebridge. The Brit, as usual, the epitome of tranquility, was flying like he was in a training exercise. Then came the bang with blinding flash. High pitched and loud enough to hurt his ears through the helmet.

“Fuck!” Damien could actually hear the electronics in their headset dying with a painful death. He hoped they would land close to each other because he was sure none of their comms were going to function. “Mikey!” He tried just to be sure but no dice.

At least there was no indication that their bird was hit. That pilot was something else, he reflected; USAF sent over one of their best for this mission. A nice change from their usual collaborative ops. CIA must have had some interest on the biolab they were visiting. And probably, as his Brit friends would say, everyone and their mother wanted to learn what the fuck was going on with China.

It hadn't been too long since they jumped into Colombia jungles in a similar manner. Usually forests granted a better landing experience than jungles. Enough space to hit the ground without getting stuck. And it should have told them how bad their luck was for this fucking mission when they both found themselves hanging from branches. Michael was worse,  stuck on a giant tree at least ten feet high and Damien would laugh if he wasn’t too busy to cut his own strings.

“You wanna be a real boy now, Pinocchio?” He asked the still struggling Brit after he was safely down.

“You are an ass.” was the elegant answer he got. “I’m stuck bad, mate. Need more- Wait. I hear something.”

Damien heard it too when Michael stopped moving his damn parachute.

“You have a visual?” There had to be some advantages on being that high up.

“Scott! Climb up, mate.” Stonebridge sounded off, and if Damien didn’t know the guy, he would even say he sounded scared.

“What is it, buddy?” He asked while climbing the damn tree because not waiting for answers in the field didn’t mean not asking questions; in Damien’s book that was.

“It’s a herd.” Michael finally replied, his eyes focused far.

“Boar?”

“People.. it’s people.”

By then Damien was high enough to see by himself, not that he could make any sense of what he saw.

“What the hell?” When he laid eyes on the group moving in tandem, he understood why Mikey used the term  _ herd. _

“They move toward the bomb site.” Mikey whispered his observation.

“Are they like Pygmy?” Damien asked while searching for his binoculars in his backpack. “No one told us about indigenous people in the area.”

But Michael shushed him, pointing another group passing close by. They sure didn’t look like Pygmy in closer look. Some of them wearing some sort of uniform, all dirty and somehow messed up. They were not close enough to recognize all the details, but there was something definitely wrong with how the herd moved. Damien couldn't put his finger on it, but his gut churned like a bad one.

TBC...


	2. Bad News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it's not obvious, this story comes right after Strike Back: Shadow Warfare.

_ Deployment day -1 _

 

If Michael Stonebridge had to make a list of the things that he didn't want to hear early in the morning when he was off duty after saving the world, Locke’s voice would be close to the top. Locke's voice being somber would push it even higher in that list. And Locke using  _ “please”. _ . the very top. He didn't like it. Especially, the secrecy. Yeah, yeah, he should have gotten used to the secrecy and the  _ need the know _ shit. He was a soldier. It's just.. emotions usually didn't make it in the orders. He was used to being ordered to dive into a certain death with a pat at the back. Not with a  _ please. _

On the way to the HQ, he called his partner in crime.

“Do you fucking know the fucking time you fucker!” Damien groaned like a poked grizzly bear.

“It's seven o'clock.” He answered just to mess with him. “So, I'm guessing nobody called you.”

“Yeah, 'cause  **nobody** has actual manners. Unlike your ugly ass!”

“You're using the phrase-”

“Oh, just shut up. I'm hungover, tired and-” His voice dropped suddenly, clearly speaking to someone else, away from the phone. “Oh, no.. No. Honey. I'm sorry. Don't, baby. Lizzy… Lilly? Of course, Lilly! I'm sorry, baby. Please don't-” That bang had to be the door shutting off. “Fuck! You happy?”

“Actually. Listening to how profoundly you fail at the mornings is kind of amusing.” Michael confessed.

“She was a yoga instructor, dude. Do you know how flexible yogis are.”

“Seriously, mate, no calls from Locke?”

“I'm assuming you got one.” Damien answered, his voice curtained by the noise of running water.

“Yeah. Very mysterious too.”

“I'll be there.” He explained before yelling, “Fuck me! That's fucking cold-”

 

 

When Michael arrived the main office, he saw Damien already getting chewed by Richmond. Ouch.

“It's too soon, mate.” He whispered and pulled Damien away. The nerve on this guy. You just didn't forget your date with a girl and book a new one. Especially if you worked with the said girl. Especially if she was special forces. And if you were stupid enough to do it, the least you could do was not to call her  _ ‘hello, gorgeous _ ’ in less than a week after the failed date.

“Damien?” Locke came out of his office, “What are you doing here?”

“Heard you were looking for us.”

“Just Stonebridge, actually.” He stood for a second then gestured in the office, “It's okay. Come on in, both of you.”

“So, what's happening?” As usual, Scott couldn't even wait for Locke to sit down.

“You guys are aware of the problem with Chinese government?”

“That they didn't like the dissolution of the trade agreement and started acting up?” Scott asked. That pretty much summed up Michael's knowledge too. They had been too busy stopping that slimy double-double agent from killing millions when politicians from East and West were pointing fingers and whining.

“That's the cover story. We are not really sure what the deal is. China closed its doors. Literally. Embassies are working on limited personnel, visas are revoked and most importantly they're blocking all communication in and out of country. The very little news we received revealed that the government imposed martial law.”

That sounded much more serious than some tantrum over a trade agreement. That sounded like cold war.

“Most worrisome tough all happened right before an enormous high altitude nuclear test.” Locke stopped, checking their response.

It was big news, scary too. Still, Michael didn't have the slightest why Locke called him. Now. 

“Why is Section 20 interested?” He asked.

“We're not, officially.” Business as usual, then. “MI6 had a man inside a top-secret lab at Jilin Province, close to North Korea border. They were suspecting some kind of bio-chemical warfare development.”

“Next to North Korea! Goody!” Chuckled Scott. Michael silently agreed; the news were steadily getting worse.

“And they lost all communication with their guy a week before the nuclear test. It's been two months.”

“You want us to get in-” Michael started, but Locke shook his head.

“No, a team has already been sent. Unfortunately, they lost contact with them too.” Lock stopped again, Michael couldn't recognize the look in his eyes. “Donald was in that team.” He finally said.

No. No, fuck no! Michael got up then sat back again; his body failing at processing the news. He felt Scott’s eyes on him, silently watching. Tall order for someone as noisy as him to not ask any questions.  

“Kerry's baby brother.” Michael explained.

“Shit, buddy. I'm sorry.”

“How long since the last communication?” He asked Locke.

“16 days. MIA, assumed dead.”

“No rescue op?”

“They were the rescue op.”

Kerry's chirpy voice, equal part blaming and honoring him, came to his mind: ‘You’re the only reason he joined the Navy.’ And Michael knew it was the case. Little Donny. Full of awe every time he saw Michael in dress uniforms. Full of questions about guns, ops, fights. Full of pride, constantly bragging about Michael to his friends. The kid was in secondary school when they had first met and had imprinted him at first sight.

“16 days? And I’m just getting the news?” He didn't even know Donny was joining ops like that. Was he old enough already? “His parents?”

“I learned last night.” Locke explained, “Out of respect, they waited for you to return from the mission first, so no one else knows. Yet. There is no urgency in delivering MIA news as you know.”

“How can I tell his parents that I haven't even looked… Shit. They didn't blame me for… for Kerry but…”

“I got the okay from the top if you want to volunteer-” Locke started, but Michael didn't need to hear the rest.

“Yes, I do.” He owed that to Kerry. Damn, he owed that to the clingy little lad that bugged the shit out of him with endless questions.

“Where do I sign?” Scott peeped because of course he did.

TBC...


	3. Nursing a Fussy American

_Deployment day + 7_

 

“Jesus, you're burning up, mate.”

“Don't let me become one of those fuckers.” Scott begged, his voice hoarse and breaking. “Just shoot me, buddy.”

“Yeah, that's fever talking.” Michael pushed his partner back down on the makeshift bed.

“Promise me -” Damien started but the rest of what he said got lost in a fit of lung retching cough.

The high fever even with the presence of field strength acetaminophen scared Michael. He had pushed the broad spectrum antibiotic in their emergency kit into his friend religiously, but so far there wasn't a blip on the getting well direction. They didn't even know if this was how the mystery disease started. Of course, it could be something else; a very well known, common something. And it could still be deadly, his brain suggested. How many people died from God damned flu each year? After everything they'd been through, losing Damien, losing him in this God forsaken forest, to a fucking fever… Jesus!

He lay down next to his friend hoping for some sleep. Some shut eye would help his nerves too.  It had been a continuous chain of disasters this opp. First, they had been made even flying under radar and had to jump early. A bomb, which they had later realized was an NNEMP, broke down all their electronics; leaving them stranded with no eyes or ears. Then, they had found out the horror that Chinese government was trying to hide. And all that before Scott got sick. 

“I'm sorry, buddy.” He heard Damien just as he was falling asleep.

“What for?”

“I was supposed to watch your six. But I'm leaving you all alone in this ratchet place.”

 “Look at me. Hey, Damien!” He tried to reach the guy; but Damien was lost in his own world; eyes unfocused looking at the ceiling.

 “You remember when we first met?” Damien asked after a spell.

 “Of course, mate.”

“I saw you watching me fighting in that pit. I knew you didn't belong with that crowd right away. Standing tall and righteous; watching me like a hawk. And when I didn't block the douchebag’s move, you got…” he stopped, exhaling loudly, “You looked disappointed.”

“Guess I was expecting more after reading your file.” Michael confirmed. He had just assumed Damien Scott was yet another bitter veteran, slowly losing everything that made him a good soldier.

“That's when I decided not to sell the fight.” That was an unexpected piece of trivia. “I wanted to impress you, buddy. Never wanted to disappoint you again. Ever.” He started coughing again.

Michael lifted him up and tried his best to pour some water through his parched lips.

“I'm sorry, Mickey. I’m so fucking tired.”

“I know, mate. But you're gonna be alright. Trust me. Okay? You're gonna be fine and I'm gonna remind you how catching flu turns you into a granny. Never gonna let you forget.”

“Okay.” Whispered Damien, with a smile.

That was the last conscious words Damien muttered for a week. Whole week! He got lost in his fever induced nightmares and yelled or cried or begged; but he didn't answer a single question.

Michael used up all their antibiotics, fever reducers and vitamin boosts by day three. By then, he had already ransacked the small infirmary of the abandoned biolab but none of the medicine was in identifiable packages and his written Chinese was limited to recognize the words _danger_ and _explosive._ Still, thanks to the well stocked infirmary, he didn't have to build a field IV to pump some liquid and nutrients into Scott's starved veins. He was pretty sure 0.9% and 5% on the bags corresponded to saline and glucose solutions. Sure enough to take the risk.

The worst part of the week was leaving the lab though. Leaving his practically comatose partner all alone for a perimeter check or a hunt while knowing all too well that he might not be breathing by the time Michael was back.

 

TBC...


	4. Not Zombies

_ Deployment day  _

 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Scott voiced exactly how Michael was feeling. “Jesus, fuck!”

“No shooting, mate.” Michael held on his partner's gun. “They are attracted to the noise.”

“For all we know they could be attracted to smell. Our smell. Like a hungry fatman after a cheeseburger.” That could actually be true. “Yeah, yeah. You're right.” Scott finally complied.

After sprinting for what felt like hours, they risked stopping for a spell.

“Zombies, buddy.” Scott gasped, “It's official, we have seen it all.”

“They weren't dead, mate.” Michael answered, “And they did die when we shot them.”

“Do they teach you to be politically correct in every situation. Is it one of the criteria you have to pass to become SBS?”

“Piss off!” He scuffed but glad that at least Scott didn't lose his sarcasm after the day they had. The way the herd attacked the wounded deer was still vivid in his memory. Poor animal was the only reason they could make it out alive from the carnage. Kicking and screaming while being eating alive, Bambi's mother attracted most of the herd to herself. “I guess we lost them.”

“So… you want to acknowledge the giant elephant.” Scott decided to act like a grown up.

“Yeah.” It's not like he could deny what he saw. “One of those-”

“Zombies.” Scott graciously supplied.

“Whatever. He was from the regimen.”

“Not your…”

“No, God no.” He wasn't Donny. Not that seeing an elite soldier from Donny's group in that situation made things any more hopeful.

“So, on foot towards the RV. It shouldn't be too hard. It's what, 50 klicks?”

“Cheers, mate.”

  
  


It should have been a day trip, maybe two considering the terrain. But as Scott delicately voiced, Lady Luck must have decided that they used all their free passes in the last opp. When they finally arrived the biolab the MI6 spook worked, they had been traveling almost a week and Scott was sick as a dog in the last two days of it.

The lab was abandoned. If the uniforms they saw on some of the -he needed to find a better name than zombies- was any indication, some of the employees had gotten sick and started roaming in the forest. The rest seemed left in panic. Hundreds of gun shells lying on the corridors, the blackened walls and stinking dead bodies indicated that someone or many someones had fought too. Some couldn't run fast enough though as half eaten body parts scattered around proved.

One good news through this FUBAR situation was that MI6 agent’s hard drive was taken from the secret safe. So, Donny's group must have  made it at least this far.

TBC...


	5. Stay Put, Easy Enough

_Deployment day + 14_

 

Sweet taste of cold water. Damien could swear he had never tasted anything better in his whole life.

“You really scared me for a while, mate.” Michael hit his back with enough force to lurch him forward. Jesus. Damien knew the guy was built like a fucking brick house, but now he looked and felt even bigger.

“Asshole.” He grumbled his displeasure, but bit on the grunt that was going to expose how painful even that playful pat was. Damien already felt like a newborn calf and didn't need Stonebridge fussing over him too.

“No complaining!” Continued Michael, totally unaware how miserable Damien was. “You owe me for scaring the shit-”

“Excuse me?!” Damien owed him? “You forgot Kosovo, buddy? Where you almost became a prime-cut organ donor? Or how you were taken to the meat bazaar from Black Bear? Or, oh yeah, the fucking botulism in the middle of an opp!”

“Okay, I get it.” Mikey laughed, his eyes shining with joy. Which only told Damien how fucking scared the Brit had really been because there was nothing to be joyful in their fucked up situation. “I'm going to hunt something to eat. Let's celebrate your solid food intake with venison.”

“Need help? You kinda suck at hunting, such bleeding heart.”

“Sod off!” he barked, but his eyes still laughing. “Seriously, you're weak as a fawn, mate. You need rest. Stay put, I'll be back before you know it.”

That smug son of a gentlemen. Fucker left laughing too. Damien knew Michael was right, but he would eat his boots before confessing it out loud. He was already feeling pretty bad about being bedridden while Mikey was taking care of him. He had practically carried Damien to the safety on the way to the lab. And he remembered how he had begged to his friend to kill him. And how he had confessed his desire to impress the guy from the get go. He wished he didn't remember. He also wished there was a way to know if it was all he had confessed during the fever fits. Not that he could ask Mikey if he had offered him his ass. Fuck!

A short run probably what he needed; pumping his blood and pushing out what's left of those nasty germs through the pores of his skin. Fresh air and sunshine. You couldn't beat their power of healing. Soon after starting, his naively planned run turned into a jog, and then a leisure stroll. Fuck. He was weak. His breathing still wasn't up to normal, his lungs aching with the strain of a mere five minutes sprint. Even more reason to push though. He needed to get back to form fast if they wanted to return to civilization. By now they were probably listed as MIA, assumed dead. Huh, maybe Richmond would be more welcoming after this ordeal. Silver lining and all.

He was preparing himself for another sprint both physically and mentally when he heard the growl. A predator. Good thing adrenaline was hell of a hormone; stopping every little complaint that his brain had sent previously and focusing on the urgent danger. He pulled his Glock out and walked towards the noise with sure steps. There it was. The biggest wolf that he had ever seen apart from a movie screen. Jesus! He knew gray wolves in Asia was bigger than their European cousins, but this?… he wasn't expecting this. He expected the petite brunette trying to climb up the walls of the facility even less.

“Hey!” He yelled, successfully pulling the animal's attention from the civilian. The wolf turned to him; looking furious, which actually might be his relaxed face for all Damien knew. “I know you're bigger, buddy, but I have the technology on my side.” He tried to reason with the canid. He reckoned his chances of solving this altercation without a gunfight was higher than his usual enemy, the terrorists.

The wolf, understandably, didn't budge and with a snarl did let Damien know what he thought about the puny human waving a gun.

“I don't wanna kill you, buddy. Come on. It's summer for God's sake, go catch yourself some fluffy rabbits.” Damien tried again. Something was wrong though. A lone wolf first of all. Wolves didn't hunt alone, he remembered that much from Discovery Channel. They also didn't attack humans unless they were starving and they definitely didn't have red eyes. “You sick too? Shit.” He could tell the exact moment the wolf decided to pounce. The animal's lean body tautened and his eyes turned to slits. Damien shot him when he was still on air, bullet tearing apart his heart and lungs. In the serene silence of the wilderness, the gunshot sound echoed over the concrete wall with a loud bang even with the silencer and then, the 200 lbs canid fell down with a climactic puff.

“You okay, lady?” Damien could finally pay attention to the civilian now that the threat had been neutralized. She answered in a language Damien hadn't heard before. “It is too much to ask to find a girl who speaks Pǔtōnghuà in China, right? Or Hangug-eo? Russkiy?” He tried languages from countries close by.

She shook her head while talking in a hurry. Even though Damien couldn't understand a word she said, it was a pleasure to hear her voice going up and down in a melodic rhythm. She had big, dark-green eyes that were shining with unshed tears. Jet black, long hair -obviously lacked any product, but still vibrant and so soft looking that Damien's hands itched to touch- was falling over her shoulders in waves. Sunlight was reflected in gold hues from her olive skin, revealed by her tattered clothing. She was fucking gorgeous. Even when she was in such distress, she was oozing sex appeal.

“So, you alone?”

“Thank you.” She said timidly, her accent was so heavy that at first Damien thought she was speaking another language.

“Your very welcome, honey. Can you speak more English, or that was all?” He was trying to establish rapport when she run to him. Suddenly she was hugging him and thanking probably in dozen different languages only few Damien could recognize, barely. “Hey, no biggie, honey. Hey. Oh. Oooh!”

She slid down in front of him with her petite hands moving over his pants and.. Damien cursed his dick; so fucking eager even when he was throwing a lung a minute ago. His dick was going to be his cause of death, he decided, not his occupation.

“Oh, honey. Not that I'm complaining, but you really don't..oh..have to.” Before he could finish his sentence, the girl engulfed his dick. “Jesus, fuck!” And, Damien Scott was never that good of a gentleman anyways. She was good. Too fucking good. Her tongue and her lips were massaging his dick with great efficiency while her fingers were playing with his balls. Then they found the point behind his nuts, pushing lightly to the spot that made him see stars during the daylight. He rested his head back to the large tree trunk behind him and just enjoyed the ride. “Just like that. Fuck, yeah!” He tentatively moved his hips and found that she was accepting. Not even gagging when he pushed all the way in. He was sold. Came sooner than he liked to admit, but it’d been a while and she was fucking phenomenal.

“Thank **you,** lady.” He managed while putting himself back into his pants and panting like a dog. “I don't even know your name.”

“Please. Thank you. Please.” She begged with no apparent reason.

“I'm not sure what is it you want sugar, but whatever, okay? Name it. I'm all yours.”

She was still going through another set of thanks and begs in a language soup when a mewl rose from her backpack. It's only then dawned on Damien that it wasn’t a bag she was carrying.

“A baby?” There was a little person snuggled inside a cocoon of fabric. “Fuck me!”

The girl took his tone badly and started begging while shushing the baby.

“Any thing… Please… I do any thing.”

Yeah. That's what Damien was afraid of. It wasn't like he didn't fucked his fair share of hookers at the four corners of the world. But there was that and then… Jesus! He felt worse than a Bond villain.

  
  


“Where the fuck have you been?” Michael bellowed with rage when Damien entered the building. His nostrils were pulsing like he needed the extra air in order to calm his nerves. He obviously had sprinted all the way from wherever he had been in order to arrive the lab before them. “I heard the gun and-” He stopped suddenly when he saw the girl hiding behind Damien.

“Yeah. This is… I don't know her name, can't speak English, and that's her baby.” Damien introduced their guests as much as he could.

“Baby?”

“And I think you're scaring them.” He said, and not only to shut his partner up. She really looked scared. Considering her petite size, a gun toting, roaring Brit must be scarier than the giant gray wolf.

“You gonna tell me what happened, mate?”

“I went for a run-”

“Jesus Christ!” yelled Michael. “You barely got up from your fucking deathbed, you prick. We're in the middle of wilderness **and** surrounded by God knows what. **And,** I told you to fucking **stay** **put.”**

While Michael tried his best to show Damien how erroneous and irresponsible his actions had been, their guest moved timidly toward the angry Brit. A girl quietly kneeling right in front of him finally shut Stonebridge up. Damien couldn't see her hands but could guess really well how they felt on his buddy.

“Lady. Stop!” Mikey jumped back, looking at Damien like it was his fault that he received this offer. It partly was.

“I guess she thinks you're yelling me because I brought her here.” Damien tried logic. Not his strong suit when it came to women, but it fit.

“And, what…” asked Mikey, totally confused, “Next logical step was this?” He gestured the general area of his dick. Not even using the words in front of a mom, always a gentleman.

“She might think that's why I let her come with me.” Damien decided to confess. It was bound to come out eventually.

“I'm sorry, did you just said you had-” Stonebridge started but Damien cut him fast before he could delve into another scolding fest.

“Save it. It wasn't like that and I feel bad enough already, okay?”

Their civilian guest started crying then, hugging Michael's legs and begging in several different languages.

“Jesus. She thinks you're gonna send them to their death.” Damien yelled. “Try to be more welcoming, buddy.”

Michael managed to calm down the poor girl. The guy's charm had no bounds and apparently didn't stop against little obstacles like language barrier. He even got a name from her, Chi Chi or something sounding very similar. Soon their guest was sitting on the carpet, devouring the food Mikey had prepared yesterday. The baby was out of her cocoon, reclining her mom's lap while watching her environment with glee. They were so fucked. Okay, smiling babies didn't usually scream bad omens, but something did. Damien felt it in his gut. Again.

“Mikey, I'm gonna do a perimeter check.” And apparently, Stonebridge had a similar gut feeling too since he didn't start yelling about importance of being sick and staying put.

There wasn't anything that could prove his intuition in the immediate area, so Damien climbed up the wall around the facility. At first, everything seemed peaceful. But, then..

“Fuck me!” They were so many that it looked like the forest was moving.

“Mikey!” He cried entering their makeshift base. “We have a problem.”

“They're heading to the gunshot sound.” Michael guessed, correctly. “How many?”

“Buddy… Thousands.”

“What?”

They both left to check again, leaving the still nervous woman with her baby alone. Damien had never wished to be wrong this much in his life, but a swearing Stonebridge meant his earlier observation was correct.

“You know, this means whatever it was, has spread to population around here.”

“Fuck. It's Northeast China, buddy, the smallest city must be several millions at least. No wonder, they imposed martial law.”

“We can't stay here.” Mikey said after a spell.

“Why? It's secure. I doubt that they can enter.”

“We don't have enough food or, more importantly, water. And there is nothing nearby as a cover. If they decide to stick around, we cannot maneuver around them.”

“We can't move fast enough with our guests.”

“Gotta try.”

When they were back, they found that the woman was ready, with her baby safely tucked in a pouch on her back.

“That's convenient.” Damien commented; she might not understand English but at least she was fluent enough in body language to understand the urgency.

“There is fresh water this way.” Stonebridge led the way. “We should find a spot near the stream, just in case.”  

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who might argue that Damien Scott would have seen a baby strapped to someone's back, I say: he is trained to detect dangers, not cute little babies. I assure you, he'd have recognize it right away if Chi Chi was carrying a bomb. Not convinced. Okay. What about this: he's a guy. Better? :)


	6. The Cave

_ Deployment day + 14 _

If it wasn't for Chi Chi showing them, there was no way they could find this cave. Its entrance required some climbing, four feet high; making it almost impossible for the infected to stumble in. It wasn't the best part though. That would be the waterfall covering the entrance; making it invisible and practically sound proof too , which was a big necessity when one of the occupants didn't understand the meaning of quiet.

They were dead tired after running around on harsh terrain all day long even though the cave wasn't too far from the biolab. But they had to meander to avoid the large groups of the infected. And they had to carry their civilian guests when things got too hairy. So, the very first thing they did after checking that the cave was safe to occupy was finding a place to lay down. There was a single field bed on one corner, raised from the ground by large logs and covered with plenty of boughs as it was supposed to be. It was very neatly done and was big enough for two adults, definitely didn't look like their petite guide could make it just by herself. Still, she laid down on it without skipping a beat, so it was safe to assume she had used it during her time here. So, that left the rest of them with bare rock.

After a short nap on torturing ground, Michael got up and woke Scott too.

“We should prepare this place before night fall.”

“Five more minutes, mom.” Scott peeped, but he was already rising. “Fuck! My back is killing me. The ground is fucking frozen.”

“Really? I had no idea.” Michael started their usual banter.

“Quite possible. You're like the Terminator, buddy.” chuckled Scott, twisting his back right and left with a loud, satisfying crunch.

Chi Chi was awake in their neat bed with her energizer baby. Michael tried to explain how they have to gather some materials to build a better sleeping ground as well as for building a fire. He wasn't sure she understood a word he had said, until Chi Chi showed the blackened rocks that was obviously used as some kind of fire pit next to the wall.

Getting out of the cave without getting wet was a tricky business.

“It's fucking cold for summer.” Scott complined.

“Yeah, it is.”

“So, who do you think was with her?” He asked, gesturing back in the cave.

“The dad, probably.” was Michael's best guess.

“Yeah… I reckon he's not gonna show up.”

“I doubt so, mate.”

  
  
  


The rabbit was small and a bit wiry, but it was freshly cooked calories so Michael's stomach was composing serenades. To his and Scott's surprise, the little baby nibbled on some of it too. Her tiny hands clutching the little piece of meat as if it was a whole steak. She chewed diligently; slurping and chomping out loud with no shame whatsoever.

“You like that, huh?” Scott bumped her nose and she giggled. And when Damien kept playing with her, she kept laughing so hard that she fell back on her mother's lap, gasping for breath. “You're so easy, little girl.” Scott’s grin matched hers. He then turned to Michael “I'm like a baby whisperer, buddy.”

After the dinner, Chi Chi fed the fire then undressed right in front of them. Michael was preparing himself to refuse another indecent offer; but she started washing her clothes by hitting them hard on the rocks under the waterfall. She didn't have anything else to put on to cover herself; so bring nude was apparently a necessity. Scott shrugged and joined the naked laundry party. To be honest, Michael was feeling pretty rancid himself.

“Okay, then.” When in Rome and all that.

The night was cold but the crackling fire was good enough incentive to catch a quick shower.

“Fuck me!” Scott yelled under the frigid water. “So fucking cold.” he continued, his teeth chattering.

It was, but his bed was welcoming enough after the cold shower, warmed to a pleasant temperature thanks to the fire. Their clothes left on the ground close to the pit, hopefully would be dry by the time they woke up.

Michael was almost asleep when he felt his bed moving. Chi Chi. Naked after her shower and laundry, trying to squeeze under his blanket. Michael couldn't refuse her, in case her made up bedding with two small pelts wasn't enough protection for the cold. Also, extra body heat and all. The emergency blanket was big enough to cover up bigger men than Michael, but still it was a tight fit; even though Chi Chi was only a half portion person in military standards and holding her baby real tight. So, Michael ended up hugging her in order to keep all their body parts under cover. She snuggled into his arms; her body pushing back in a gentle caress as if he wasn't a stranger. As if her body belonged there. As if she was perfectly safe in Michael's arms.

  
  
  
  


“Damien, wait up.”

“What's up, buddy?” He asked, one eyebrow lifted; most probably already guessing what was eating Michael.

“I know you had something going on with-”

“Stop right there, buddy. There were two equally warm beds to choose from and she made her choice. Simple as that.” He snickered and then commented, “Also you know, bros before hoes.”

“Sometimes I can't believe the words coming out of your mouth, mate. Seriously?”

“Maybe she chose the sensible one. It wasn't based on looks, that's for sure.”

“Piss off!”

“Oh, buddy, you're so easy.”

TBC...


	7. Micheal Ain't No Saint

 

_Deployment day + 15_

 

All day long Stonebridge was off. So much so that Damien grew suspicious that the guy actually did the dirty right next to the sleeping baby without waking Damien up. Nah, not possible. He wanted to shake the Brit. Damien Scott had the pleasure of receiving blow jobs from hundreds of women and they all were free to chose another guy afterwards -he actually supported the idea religiously- and Chi Chi wasn't special. Okay, she was the only one available right now. Also Damien was almost sure that she was an exquisite courtesan with  exceptional training in pleasuring men -not that he would ever voice his suspicion to Stone _proper._ That made her pretty fucking special. What Damien meant was he hadn't been planning to propose her or anything.

There was nothing left on the trees close by; Chi Chi or her mystery partner must have exhausted all the resources around before she had decided to leave the safety of the cave. Using firearms was out of question while thousands of bloodthirsty zombies -they counted as zombies in Damien's book whatever proof Mikey gave to support the contrary- hanging around, waiting another bing bang to follow. Luckily special forces didn't skip on survival training; they built traps for small critters and fish. And although presence of zombies scared away most of the animals, their loot was bountiful.

“Now, we have to wait for some other clueless sucker to distract the herd.” Damien said while field dressing the hare they caught.

“Or, we have to wait until they starve to death. It shouldn't be too long.” Mikey, forever the optimist, replied.

“They're fucking zombies, buddy. They're not gonna die by themselves. Haven't you seen a single zombie movie, for God's sake?”

  
  


 

Damien deduced that this time Chi Chi's intention was more on the naughty side when she left her sleeping baby on her own bed before sliding next to Mikey.

“Don't you dare refuse her, buddy.” He whispered to the night; sure that the constant growl of the waterfall would mask his voice. She made her choice. Simple as that. Of course her choice was based on the wrong assumption that Stonebridge was the boss. Seeing him yelling at Damien at the biolab, Chi Chi must have decided Michael was the alpha dog. And she was simply looking for the best protection for herself and her baby. That was it. Not that Damien blamed her using whatever available for her to achieve that. She was clearly alone in wilderness, surrounded by wild animals **and** zombies. And there was no way she could have known she didn't have to do anything to get Michael's -or Damien's for that matter- protection.

The cave wasn't exactly bright but the moonlight filtering through the thin water-wall was more than enough to shed some soft light inside. Damien could see how their bodies moved under the tiny emergency blanket. She was insistent, Damien could tell even all the way from where he was lying. Not only insistent but she somehow found the ever elusive _yes_ button of dear old Stone _wall._

Michael's loud grunt announced the final wall breaking and Damien watched with a kid-like glee how the marine lifted up the tiny woman over him. “Oh, thank you for the show, buddy.” He whispered into the darkness.

Under the moonlight, she looked even more gorgeous. Her hips moved sensually on top of Michael while her hair dancing over her petite shoulders. Damien could barely make the shape of her breasts, but they were full and pert enough to make him forget about all that nursing he had witnessed during the day. He let his hand move into his underwear; fondling his dick with soft and slow strokes.

More than a brighter scene, he wished to be able to hear the sounds they were making. The way their bodies hit each other, the way she moaned but especially he wanted to know how Michael Stonebridge sounded when he was doing the dirty. He was sure Mikey wasn't a loud lover; it was only going to be whispers and grunts and Damien wanted to catch them all; write them to his memory to remember again and again.

“Fuck me!” He couldn't help cursing when Michael moved his hands up on Chi Chi’s back, dwarfing her body between his arms. The arms on the guy. Jesus! His flexors bulging with power, he manhandled the girl easily over his dick. Chi Chi started to go wild, her long hair whipping back and forth like an Ethiopian dancer. Damien could only imagine what that dick was doing to her. He was sure it was a big dick, the way she was lifting up and up, and fucking up before sinking down again.  Oh, fuck! He was going to come before them.

“Come on, Mikey. Don't be a prude.” He begged silently to see some more of his partner and as if answering his prayers, Michael turned the girl down, under him. But ever the shy marine kept the blanket on. “Seriously! You're nothing but a tease. A fucking cock tease.”

All he could see now was the strong shoulders of Mikey. Was he kissing the girl? Oh, yeah. He was. Long, deep kisses. Damien bet they were juicy and very, very possessive. Because Stonebridge was as possessive as they came under all that gentlemen Brit cover. Damien still remembered the caveman act he had pulled when he had found Damien with his wife before becoming best buds.

Oh, apparently Lady Luck decided Damien deserved some love after losing his lay; the shiny blanket started to slide over the muscular body, inch by inch with every strong thrust. Then, Chi Chi -God bless her spunk- lifted her legs to wrap Mikey, finally getting rid of the offensive cover for good.

“Jesus!” Damien's hand speeded up without his permission. “Is there a part of you that isn't sculptured, buddy?”

Damien liked asses; in men, women, anything in between...he wasn't too choosy. He liked his own ass the best though. He wasn't ashamed to confess that he checked it out in a mirror on a regular basis. It was plump, shapely and apparently soft enough to be used as a pillow he was told. He had received more than enough compliments from both genders and he was proud of it.  But what he saw in front of him was something else. Stonebridge's butt looked like it was carved out of stone: chiseled sharp lines and power packed fullness. It didn't look dougy or cushiony at all. Opposite of what Damien liked in women and epitome of male perfection. And Damien had to swallow hard before salivating all over his chest like a rutting dog while that butt kept clenching right in front of him.

Mikey was grinding, Chi Chi was moaning and Damien was right on the edge… That's when a tiny paw with razor sharp nails held on to his arm to pull herself up. Damien came eye to eye with a curious six months old and came, unintentionally, all over himself. Fuck!

He cleaned his hand by rubbing it to ground and picked up the very unhappy baby.

“Shush now, little girl.” He whispered into her ears, hoping that she wouldn't go into one of her crying fits. “No need to ruin their thing too, okay?”

She looked at him as if contemplating doing just that; then snuggled into his chest.

“You're gonna be a ball busting Domme, aren't you? Not even a year old and managed to ruin my perfect or-” He stopped when two curious eyes focused on his own. “Do you understand English? Shit!” He checked Chi Chi, truly expecting her to clutch her baby away from him while berating on using foul language. Good, they were still busy. “God damn, Mikey! Save some for later, huh?” He whispered before remembering the little curious eyes. “Okay. First of all, I was talking about how good of a soccer player you're going to be. Was talking about soccer balls.” He could swear she lifted an eyebrow. “You're such a b-... bossy. That's what I was gonna say, obviously. Although, strong willed is probably a better word for a little girl, huh?” Shit, he was terrible at this. If Stonebridge kept on his marathon fucking, Damien would sure ruin the innocence in this baby. Not that she was all that innocent looking right now. Staring at Damien with disapproving eyes more fitting to a seventy year old grandmother. “Yeah I watched them.” He defended himself, “They're right here, it's not like I went out of my way to sneak a peek.” She gave another judgmental look before closing her eyes and sucking on her thumb.

Damien rested against the wall, holding the sleepy girl while Stonebridge kept on and on, clearly relieving a metric ton of pent up sexual frustration. If anyone had ever told Damien that he would take care of a baby while a fuckfest going on in the very room, he would have laughed. Hard. “Maybe, I'm getting old.” He said to himself and the baby nodded without opening her eyes. “You little shi-... shining star.”

  
  
  


The herd was very slow moving when there wasn't much to irritate them. So, they ended up surrounded by thousands of hungry zombies ready to attack with the smallest of noise. It was a nerve wracking experience each time they had to go out.

“You know what we need?” Damien whispered while collecting dry wood with the utmost care, “A sword. Or a big machete would work too.”

“For what?”

“Then we could've killed as many as we liked without a sound every time we're out. It's been weeks, we should have put a dent into their numbers by now.”

“With a machete?”

“Yeah. You think I can't do it, buddy? Is that it?”

“I don't know what kind of movies you watched, mate, but these buggers aren't slow. And I know math isn't your strong suit, but thousands is a big number. Bigger than hundreds even. Imagine that!”

“Asshole!”

Yeah, Stonebridge was right. It was just.. Damien was bored out of his mind with nothing to do. The quiet exercises and sparring they did every day was nothing near enough to occupy him. And he didn't get to enjoy the exquisite nighttime entertainment that Mikey was blessed with. Lucky bastard. Damien was almost sure that he was aware that Damien was watching them, but not enough to bring it up or start joking about it. 

“You know,” Michael started, all serious now, “sometimes I think it’s just spread to whole world while we hide in this forest.”

“That's a scary thought.” Damien replied, not mentioning how the same fear kept him awake at night. “But Chinese government kept everything under iron curtain, buddy, quite literally. I'm sure the rest of the world doesn't even know what's going on, let alone suffer from it.” That explanation was the only one he could use to excuse why they hadn't witnessed a single proof of civilization since they arrived here. Not a plane or a helicopter or anything resembling man made like the sweet sounds of heavy machinery taking out those zombies. Nothing. Sometimes, he found himself wishing for the Marines coming down from the hills. He was a disgrace, a Delta tying his hopes to jarheads.

Michael didn't respond, seemingly busy with watching where he's stepping. ‘Yeah, buddy.’ Damien thought, ‘I'm fucking scared too.’

He almost didn't see Stonebridge's stop signal, was too busy watching his own steps. It was a corpse. They'd seen plenty since they had stuck in this damned forest, but this one looked like he killed himself. He was dangling from a bough; bloated and patchy with some chunks already falling off from his bones.

“We're not exactly in the suicide forest.” Damien said after checking there wasn't any danger close by. “What do you think he was doing here?”

“He had a gun.” Michael showed the pistol sitting under the corpse, probably fell while he was kicking the bucket, quite literally. “But preferred hanging.”

“No bullets left or…”

“Or he didn't want to attract more of those.” Michael pushed some low branches aside to show another corpse. This one looked like he was dead even longer -but that was probably due to woodland critters’ handicraft- with a knife lodged into his jugular. It would be impossible to tell whether he was one of the sick ones if it wasn't for his clothing. He was donned with the uniform from the biolab, but it looked ragged around the arms and legs just like the rest of the zombies. Fuckers didn't care about their clothes tangling with bushes or whatnot.

“So, zombie bits the man. Man kills the zombie. Man kills himself.” Damien explained his theory. “I don't know why it takes so long for CSI units. We solved it in a minute.” He added with a grin.

“Seems like it.” Michael answered but he was busy checking the suicide guy's pockets. “He's Russian.” He said after taking out an ID. “And knew Chi Chi.” He continued, showing a glamour shot of their civilian companion. She looked like a movie start in the twice folded picture; dressed in a tight, shiny red gown with a deep slit to die for. “The photo was in the wallet long enough to leave a dent.”

“So we found the daddy.”

“I don't know, mate.” Michael answered while putting the picture back into his own pocket. “He would be a real shit father to carry this picture but not his baby's, don't you think.”

Michael didn't mention anything about the suicide corpse to Chi Chi, understandably. It wouldn't have been an easy conversation even if she could have understood some English. Damien followed his footsteps. Only to wonder silently what a guy, who didn't even have a Gold card in his wallet, had anything to do with a courtesan in Chi Chi's caliber. Who, by the way, was a shit cook. This was the only time they had left her to cook the meat and they had had to eat the roots Damien gathered instead. That girl had to have world's best luck -after stranding in a zombie forest with a baby of course- to find Damien and Michael. She couldn't cook, hunt or even recognize lethal mushrooms.

  
  
  


Maybe because she wanted to make up for the burned bird, Chi Chi was on fire that night. She started singing after dinner as she had done before time to time, but continued with the addition of dancing which likes Damien had only witnessed in very exclusive rooms when he was in Thailand. She was moving like she was fluid; her body following her hair's waves under the flickering light of flames; hands mysteriously disappearing and reappearing around her delicate body.

Damien spared a glance at Stonebridge. He looked totally bewitched; watching Chi Chi eyes full of awe. Maybe, Damien should mention Chi Chi's very obvious occupation. That girl sure had to know how to bind a man as naive as Michael to herself; it was her fucking job. On the other hand, probably not even Stonebridge was delusional enough to think whatever they had could continue when they were back. If there was a back that was. His eyes met with Chi Chi's then; a tiny smile revealed that she caught him watching his partner.

She sat down on Mikey's lap and started giving him the queen of all lap dances. Jesus Christ! Damien was steadily growing inside his underwear while watching them. This time it wasn't even that under the blanket, hush hush deal that they could go on as if nothing happened in the daylight. They were right next to the fire, sitting across Damien, where he could touch them both without moving his butt. Chi Chi slowly undressed Stonebridge, revealing that muscular body inch by glorious inch; as if doing it for Damien's benefit. Maybe she was; girls like her had to be perceptive, had to read a guy's mind like a book. Mikey's tight smile told Damien that his shy partner wasn't all that into the striptease game; but he was complying nonetheless. Because no one could say no to that lap dance, not even Stone _will._ Damien remembered one special occasion when a girl in those exclusive rooms had worked on him. He had forgotten his own fucking name. And Chi Chi looked better than that girl, much much better.

Damien was seriously considering to move back to darkness and rub one out when Chi Chi slowly bent back all the way down and reached for him. Her legs were still wrapped around Michael, her hips rolling erotically, massaging his groin. She held on Damien's hand and gently pulled. Damien looked at Stonebridge because this game needed the okay from all three players.

“It's okay if you don't want it, buddy. Just say it.” He pushed the words out while watching how Chi Chi’s stretched arms were pushing her pert breasts up, nipples facing the high celling of the cave.

Mikey didn't replied verbally, just shrugged. Damien would take it. He would so take it; he wouldn't even think twice on it. He glided his hands over Chi Chi's arms, from her soft hands toward her gorgeous breasts, enjoying her smooth warmness under his fingertips. Chi Chi pulled his head to hers and gave him an upside down kiss.

“Fuck me!” The words just jumped out of his mouth after she let go of his tongue. Damn, she tasted good.

She then got up, pulled Damien to Michael's bed, which was the only bed that had seen two people action so far, and pushed him down. She kneeled on top of him, on all fours, ready for a 69. She then pulled Michael behind her, pushing her hips into him to describe her very obvious intent. Damien had the prime location to watch the action, right under Chi Chi's pussy. And watch he did. He watched Michael taking off his fat dick from his underwear. Fucking… He had guessed the guy was huge, but...Jesus! he was hiding a fucking monster in there. He watched him sliding his fingers into Chi Chi's damp folds only to follow them with his cock. Watched him slide in and in, slowly filling her to the brim. How this tiny girl could fit all that man meat inside her must be one of the biggest mysteries of the mother nature.

Chi Chi pulling his own dick brought Damien back from the hypnotizing dick action. She started licking him, small and delicate laps, driving him completely crazy. He returned the favor. Licking her clit, while Mikey was filling her insides. After a while she stopped and pushed him back instead. She was already too short for Damien to give an easy 69. If he moved back more, he would miss her pussy completely so Damien couldn't understand her intentions until her fingers tapped on his balls before reaching back and tapping Michael's. Oh, fuck! Was she really asking him to do Mikey or was it just Damien's delusion. Was this just a fun game of threesome for Chi Chi or was it a ploy to better serve her man.

“Fuck it.” He decided to go for it; hoping Stonebridge wouldn't kick him in the balls for trying. He gave a tentative lick at the pussy on top of him, his tongue touching ever so slightly to the root of Michael's dick. When there was no ‘no homo’ complain came from Mikey, he tried again with a bit more confidence, then one more time. That's when Chi Chi engulfed him, her mouth doing unspeakable things to his dick while her hands pulling his nuts rather painfully to keep his orgasm at bay. Damien moved a fraction of an inch back; licked the root of that cock all the way to the heavy ball sack.

“Scott, mate?” squeaked Stonebridge. It wasn't a complaint. Who in their right mind would complain about such a thing anyway. So, Damien shoved the tip of his tongue into the pussy while paying most of his attention to his partner’s prick. Then, he moved even more until his tongue working on the sensitive area between Michael's ass and balls.

“Oh, fuck!” Michael grunted, increasing his speed. That was the signal Damien needed. He finally found enough courage to hold the guy, both hands at each leg, right where Mikey's butt started bulging out. He slightly pushed the strong muscles out of his way, separating the chiseled globes to be able to dive into the taste between them.

He wanted to do exactly this since he had found Stonebridge waiting in his room in Malaysia, drinking tea out of all things without a care in the world. Like someone who never had a wound in his conscience. Like a perfect soldier. Like a fucking poster boy for everything that Damien had told himself that he would never miss but had done so, so much.

Michael's each thrust was pushing his dick into Chi Chi’s cunt then his asshole into Damien's mouth. Chi Chi decided to up her game by pushing couple of fingers into Damien and it was too good and too much and too fucking perfect. He felt Michael's hand on his head, pulling him in deeper into that perfect butt while Michael was grinding into Chi Chi. He slobbered all over that ass.  All that long, long nights in this very cave, all that just watching and no touching feeding his desire, he pushed his tongue into Michael; tasting the slick, soft insides of his partner. That was how he came: his face being completely covered by that muscular butt, sucking Michael's asshole, his nuts being handled this side of brutal and a gentle finger massaging his prostate.. he shot deep into Chi Chi's gullet.

“Fuck me!” He was done. Done. He couldn't lift a finger. He kept lying on the bed, watching Michael fucking the girl like there was no tomorrow. Watching his cock, listening to his grunts -finally, finally he was close enough to hear him. If Damien hadn't been completely satisfied, he would have wished Michael to come all over him to finalize this perfect night. But he was completely done for tonight and totally okay that Mickey filled Chi Chi instead. She collapsed on him and Michael next to them.

“If this is the end of the world, buddy,” he said after he was sure he could speak, “I wouldn't wanna spend it any other way.”

“Yeah,” was the cryptic reply he got, the only one. When it was obvious Michael wasn't gonna make a sound, Damien moved back to his own bed. He hoped to hell, Stonebridge wasn't gonna make a big deal out of tonight.

 

TBC...


	8. Farewell to Paradise

_ Deployment day + 35 _

 

It had been a month, give or take, they had arrived this nightmare and the number of infected they saw had been decreasing steadily. Michael knew it was time. It had been for a few days actually. Scott was getting restless, rightly so. Especially after that crazy night they had that Michael refused to analyze. But traveling with a civilian and a baby, who couldn't be silent when she didn't want to, was a scary task. Still, they had to move.

He found Scott sitting right next to the waterfall, watching the white foam welling up next to the rocks.

“Today?” Scott asked without raising his head.

“It's good as any. What do you think?”

“So, where to? Our old exfil is out of question.”

“Yeah. Northeast. I can't believe I'm saying that but Russia is our best bet.” It hadn't been that long that they were the most wanted, preferably dead, guys in Russia. Still, it beat North Korea, the only other choice.

“Yeah, especially when we tell them what's going on right at their border.” Scott said grinning.

“It's only 200 kilometers away, doubt we can find any electronics working this side of the border.” Michael reminded him. They, now, knew that the reason behind the high altitude nuclear bomb was just to create a powerful EMP to cut all communication around the biolab.

“I'm sure we can find a way to use Morse code, buddy. You still remember those?” Scott’s grin got impossibly wide.

“Fuck off!”

  
  
  


Although they hadn't seen any infected so far, their trip was slow going. With a very cranky baby who needed either a diaper change or potty stop every couple of hours, it was expected. Michael had never paid much attention to the glorious wonder that was disposable diapers before his time in this forest. Now that they had to carry a baby who was donned with animal pelt filled with dry moss, he understood the importance of the diaper technology.

The baby was fussy again, and this time Michael was sure it wasn't anything to do with her bowels or primitive diaper. They sat down again and Chi Chi tried to nurse her with no luck. She looked furious; tiny hands clutched in tight fists, pushing and punching her mother's breasts with fury. Chi Chi looked frustrated, and scared too.

“Maybe she's sick.” Scott peeped, voicing the fear residing in Michael since this morning and the baby screamed bloody murder as if she was offended by the notion. They had nothing in terms of any medication. And a baby this small... God! She was so fucking tiny that could sit perfectly well in Michael's palm. “Nah! She's teething, buddy.” Scott added with a wide smile after checking her reddish gums. “Poor girl. It hurts, huh, cupcake? It'll be over, soon sugar. Then you can really eat your meat, not just chew on it.”

Michael collapsed next to Chi Chi, the sudden relief pulling him down. Chi Chi shuffled closer and rested her head on his shoulder. He could tell she was afraid to be left behind with her constantly crying baby. There wasn't much words to convince her to the contrary so Michael did the only thing he could, hugged her tight and gave her a kiss on the head.  

Scott gave the baby a piece of fresh fern which she started to bite like a dog on a bone.

“It'll soothe her gums.” He explained the nervous mom and even though she didn't understand the words, his tone was enough to calm Chi Chi. “Shall we?” He asked standing up, stretching his legs.

It was more luck than anything else that Michael saw the broken arrow under the tree, covered with fallen leaves, while picking up the baby. It wasn't one of those fancy store bought ones. It was handmade; the tip was hardened with fire and the fletching was tied with a single string.

“Scott!” He showed it to his partner.

“Do you think it's from our guys?”

“Could be. This is the fastest way to the Russian border from the biolab, they would probably want to reach Russia too. And they wouldn't want to use guns to avoid noise.”

“Or could be someone who came for hiking and stuck with zombies.”

“Doubt so. If I had to build an arrow, I'd do exactly like this, mate. That's regimen training.” This was a good sign. “Let's keep our eyes open.”

  
  
  


They found two more of the handmade arrows along the way, building hope in Michael. It was a long shot, but there was still a chance that Donny was alive. And he was. They found him against all odds; half crazed, missing a foot but alive. He attacked them when Scott tried to pull him down from the tree he was hiding.

“Donny! It's me, lad. Hey! Look at me!” Michael had to chokehold him to stop him from hurting Scott.

Donny stopped fighting, his wild eyes finally focusing on his face. “Mike!” Then he started crying while talking a mile in a minute, mostly repeating himself, voice going high and low like the waves in a stormy shore. “I knew you'd come.” “You came for me.” “Kerry said you would.” “Are you real?” “You came…” Going on and on.

“Jesus Christ!” Scott swore, “How long have you been alone, kid?”

“I'm not alone.” Donny suddenly focused, “Never alone here. They're everywhere. So many of them. Oh, God! They ate Sarge.”

Michael held on to his brother in law, who had lost at least two stones since he had last seen him. With his patchy, thin beard and grimy hair, he looked more like a drug addict dosser than an elite soldier.

“Let's get you eat something, Donny, okay?”

After eating and resting and crying -lots of crying,-Donny finally found himself somehow. Enough to gave an accurate sitrep.

“Everything went shit as soon as we landed. I have no idea how they knew we entered the country but there was this bomb. It blew out all electronics.”

“Yeah, we got the welcoming EMP too.” Scott said, while trying to get Donny's hair into some kind of a shape with his knife.

“Before we found the biolab, we saw those fuckers. Sorry, Ma'am.” He nodded to Chi Chi before continuing in a softer voice. “One of them bit Jeremy. We didn't realize how fast it could act. One moment Jeremy was swearing like a drunken sailor. Then… He just… it didn't even took him five minutes to turn into... He attacked us. Before I shot him, he bit Rick. He.. he tore a big chunk of his face.” He recounted, eyes wide with panic he was reliving. “Sergeant knocked Rick out. Then we watched from afar, just in case. He woke up.. he wasn't Rick anymore.” He stopped for a moment, eyes unfocused and lips quivering. “I know I was the youngest, no experience in ops like that. Heck if they didn't need a geek, I wouldn't make the team but Mike… it wasn't just me. Even Sarge… we all shook up.”

“I know, Donny.” He couldn't find any words to ease the lad’s worries.

“You think you're ready for everything.” intervened Scott, "but there is always something unexpected. And still, nothing and I mean nothing, would prepare you watching your buddies killing each other. That's fucked up, man.”

Donny looked at Scott, and nodded with a grateful smile.

“We made it to the lab, we got the hard drive. It's still with me.” He patted his vest pocket.

“Is it gonna work after the EMP?”asked Michael, it hadn't seemed like anything was working in that lab, not even the water pump.

“It’s protected in a Faraday cage. And it's not an SSD.” Donny explained as if what he said was totally obvious. “We lost Sarge on the way to exfill. There were thousands of them. We hid in the trees with Ned and we didn't do anything.” His voice got that lost tinge again, pulling Donny to far away. “Oh, God!”

“There is nothing you could-” started Michael but Donny cut him off.

“We could've shot him. Mercy kill. Something. They ate him alive, Mike. He screamed so much, so long. But the gun noise… it would've…”

“What happened your leg?”Michael changed the subject.

“A bear… if it wasn't for Ned, it would've killed me. I couldn't move for days. Then fever hit. I thought I was dying. Ned took care of me. Then one day, he didn't return. I was hoping that he had left me and run away.. but then I saw him. Roaming in the forest like the rest of them. They were all better than me and died trying to protect me…”

“Survival guilt is the hardest.” Michael pat Donny's shoulder. “But you'll get over it. And you'll finish the mission.”

 

TBC...


	9. Can't Save Everyone

_Deployment day + 40_

 

“So, you are the new sokker she find.” The fat guy asked with a heavy Russian accent. “What happened Nikolai? She left him for you?” He laughed, baring all of his crooked teeth. “You bigger but she don't care, my man. All she care is money. No, _moya luna?”_

“Keep calm, buddy.” whispered Damien, watching behind the tree line, waiting for an opening to interfere. “Don't let him get to you.”

He had left them alone for what, five minutes and Stonebridge found trouble again. In a fucking Chinese wilderness he managed to piss of yet another Russian mafia boss. Damien would have thought he was doing it on purpose, if it had been possible to do so.

The fat dude asked something in Russian. Then, a short guy, who Damien had missed completely before, appeared between the mercs and translated it to Chi Chi. She answered by spitting right at the boss’s face.

“For fuck's sake, since Mikey didn't do something stupid, why don't you little Miss Sunshine take over! You guys are made for each other, huh?” He grumbled silently, all he could do while trying to find a perfect spot for the coming skirmish. Why would anyone want to antagonize a guy who walks into a foreign forest with his fucking private army? Jesus Christ! 

The boss stopped the bodyguard who wanted to slap Chi Chi. Thankfully so because there wouldn't be any way to stop Stone _knight_ if anyone touched the damsel in distress. “You tell me, boy toy,” He pointed a fat finger to Mikey, “where is my daughter?"

“I don't know, mate? You scared her away too?” was the answer from Michael because he apparently had a death wish.

The boss didn't stop the fist that hit Stonebridge who roll with it to reduce the impact. At least he still remembered that part of his training.

“Your new _gospozha_ stole my baby from me. Tricked one of my soldier to help too. Where is she?”

The baby wasn't with them. She must be with Donny. Why would they left a baby with a half hinged guy, Damien could never guess but he was glad that they did. He was sure these guys would have killed everyone before asking any questions if they had what they wanted already. Maybe they wouldn't have killed Chi Chi, but Mikey… no chance.

“You can't even speak to her without a translator and you want me to believe she's the mother of your child?” Michael asked from where he feel down, apparently mixing buying time with antagonizing. Luckily, the boss only laughed.

“She can't learn language no more. Brain weak. Too much deep throat kill the brain they say.” He poked the metaphorical bull that was Michael Stonebridge.

Damien couldn't hear what Michael started to say, probably more bullshit to drive the boss crazy, but a shrill of baby cry filled the air and stopped everyone.

“Shit!” That's when Chi Chi attacked the boss man with her bare hands. Someone, obviously Donny, started shooting at the soldiers behind the rocks on the hill. “Fuck me!” Damien had to act now too. It was a carnage. Most of the mercs were dead or incapacitated right away, not expecting offense from two different fronts. Only one was alive, the one sent to search for the baby apparently. Standing on a wobbly leg, holding on the little baby for dear life, her fragile neck between his mammoth hands.

“Put her down, mate.” Michael tried, but Damien could tell from where he stood that the guy didn't understand English.

He understood his boss though, speaking Russian under Chi Chi, her small body protecting his fat one from bullets. The boss, then, started with his broken English “We go with my daughter. Or I cut your _shlyukha_ open.” He emphasized his words by pushing the tactical knife into a bullet hole in Chi Chi's stomach.

Damien couldn't shoot him where he laid like a spineless snake, but the bastard had to stand up eventually. Michael was trying to placate the angry Russian knowing exactly that: Let him feel like he won, took him out as soon as he dropped his guard.

But Chi Chi didn't know the plan. She didn't understand the language nor she had any idea how hostage negotiations folded. When she turned her head and saw her baby in the hands of a bloody mercenary, she acted on instinct. Damien knew the moment she roared that there was no saving her. He focused on saving the little baby; a bullet through the cerebellum of the baffled merc saw just that.

Michael took care of the boss, using the guy's own blade but not before the very same blade had slashed through Chi Chi’s gut when she leaped for her daughter. Now, she was lying on the ground; half her intestines spread onto forest floor, mixed with dirt and the stench of her wound pungent in the crisp evening air. Her face hadn't lost any of her breathtaking beauty though. Apart from a single strand of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth, she seemed as if she was resting for a spell. As if she was going to get up, pick her daughter and toss her up for a giggle. 

Michael was choking on her side, trying to close her wound with his bare hands as if there was snowball of a chance that he could help her now.

When Damien brought the little girl, Chi Chi’s hands reached towards her baby, and he dutifully placed the little crying bundle into her arms. She held his hand, silently asking for something. She was gesturing her body and Michael solved the puzzle.

“She wants to nurse her, mate.” He said, now silently crying.

The little bug, not knowing this would be her last nursing, jumped to the offered breast with gusto.

Suddenly, Chi Chi held Michael's hand. Her petite fingers holding his bony ones with enough force to turn them white.

“Please…”she begged, her voice cutting on and off with spasms and coughs. “America… safe… please, safe, you… with you... please.”

Michael had apparently perfected deciphering Chi Chi speech during their time together. “I'll keep her safe. I promise. I'll take her with me.” He started, his voice calm and reassuring, his other hand patting her hair, pushing a few stray hair strands away from her pretty face. “Not in the States, but in Britain. I don't think that's a deal breaker, right.” He smiled, a grim and tight one. “Actually, in terms of women rights, Britain is an even better choice. She'll have free education, universal health…” By then, Chi Chi's eyes were dead. She went quietly, listening to a language she didn't understand, trusting her little baby girl to a guy she met mere weeks ago. Michael didn't stop though; kept telling how he would take care of the little baby. How he almost had become a father before. How this was his second chance to make things right. How he'll try his best to make sure she was safe. Safe.

“Come on, buddy.” Damien held on his partner's shoulder and squeezed. “We have to move.” Before night fell, they had to find somewhere safe, food... Fuck! How were they gonna feed the baby now? As much as Damien could tell, she was sucking her mom every other hour.

  
  


“I'm never gonna sleep with another woman again.” said Michael, his eyes steady on the finally -fucking finally- sleeping baby close to the fire.

Damien was upset too, of course he was, but this was a bit extreme even for a romantic like Mikey.

“I know it feels like that, buddy. But life goes on and you'll get over this. Eventually.”

That got him a dry chuckle.

“No.” He said with certainty, “Do you know how many women I got intimate with?”

“You mean like in a relationship?” After all these years, it still wasn't always easy to decipher the Brits.

“I meant had sex. Or fucked for your vulgar Yankee ears.”

“No.” Damien said. Remembering how Mikey and Kerry had been highschool sweethearts, he now guessed the answer and dreaded it.

“Three.” Michael chuckled again, his eyes rose up to the skies. “All three died right in front of my eyes, mate, and the blood… I just can't… Fuck...”

Shit. Damien still remembered the pain that hit him when Rebecca seized to breathe. He couldn't comprehend losing someone like Kate, let alone Kerry. And Michael's shortest fling was with Chi Chi, still longer than him and Rebecca. No wonder the guy looked broken. He didn't have anything to offer his friend. If they had been back to the civilization, Damien would make him drink his weight in liquor, fight with some hunks and then pass out, right in that order. That was the only remedy in his repertoire. He was trying to squeeze his brain to cough up something, anything when Donny returned from perimeter check. Smart guy had decided that running around on a single foot was an easier task than being a company to grieving Stonebridge.

“You're not gonna believe what I've found.”

Apparently, he found half dozen Polaris MV800 ATVs, obviously left by the fat man and his merry group of dead mercenaries. If those bastards had made it all the way here from Russia on ATVs, their own exit was going to be breeze. They could even try contacting a US military base through ATV radio for an easier exfil. Huge plus, considering how Michael had to pre-chew little baby's food tonight. Not that little bug ate anything at all. She screamed her little lungs out, crying for her dead momma.

TBC...


	10. Civilization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I wanted to write was hot and steamy smut; but these two kept behaving like an old married couple in the middle of every scene; forcing my metaphorical pen. We have more than 3k of this instead....

_ Deployment + 45 _

  
  


No noise was coming from the room so Damien knocked quietly in case Mikey was asleep. Wasn't. He opened the door, saw Damien with a bottle of Scotch and gestured in.

“You couldn't sleep either, huh?” Damien asked while pouring Scotch into the glasses he picked on top of the mini bar.

“Too comfortable.” Stonebridge said showing the super king size hotel bed covered with about 20 pillows. “And I guess… I kinda miss little Chichi’s voice.”

Damien missed the little bug too; inevitable when they had spent the last thirty days or so together, day and night. “She's all right, buddy. They just wanna keep her under observation. That's all.”

“Cheers!” Mikey emptied his glass in one shot, then changed the subject. “They say I’m gonna need a really good solicitor for adoption.”

“Yeah, like they’re willing explain how you brought the baby to UK or from where. Don't worry, they're gonna realize it's going to be a bigger hustle not to give her to you.”

“I still cannot believe China managed to keep everything secret, until now.” Michael said, referring to their earlier briefing in the hospital. Locke had kept it short, explaining how it was total lack of information since they'd been sent in. But the hard drive they brought back finally explained what the hell was going on. The lab had been working on a bioweapon based on rabies.

“Rabies, buddy. What kinda sick fuck you have to be to play with that.” The scientists managed to decrease the incubation period of the disease, which was several weeks, to mere minutes in order to use it during combat. Supposed to be the perfect weapon to break morale; nothing would destroy the bond between soldiers like your brother in arms trying to eat your face. It wasn't supposed to be contagious though. Their virus wasn't, but a mutated strain became contagious; very much so. “Could you imagine being in the shoes off that MI6 agent? Updating the last info on a secret drive while people eating each other right outside of his door?” Poor bastard.

“Cheers!” Michael finished his second one with a grim smile. “Adopting Chichi, you know what that means?”

“That you're looking for an early retirement?”

“Worse. Locke already offered me an office job.”

“And you seriously considering?”

“I'm not sure.” Michael filled his glass again, “I just know I can't go on like this anymore.” Then guzzled his third shot.

  
  
  
  


When Damien decided he drank enough to sleep well and rose up to leave, Michael stopped him with a hand on his arm. There wasn't any words. Damien just knew what his partner, ex-partner apparently, wanted. His need was too obvious if his desire was not.

“You sure, buddy?” As much as he wanted Michael, he didn't want to risk their friendship, his only real one, for a one night stand.

“I've never done  _ just sex _ before, mate, but I'm almost sure there isn't much talking, right?”

Michael sounded angry. Not as much as the way he had gone over the rails after Kerry but it wasn't too different either. His anger was boiling right under the surface, ready to erupt with the smallest crack.

“Want yourself an angry fuck?”

“I thought you could take it.” was Michael's curt answer. He, then, mellowed a fraction, “If you want it.”

Damien looked at him for a moment. Sitting tall, face closed, Michael looked like carrying world's weight on his shoulders. All that guilt, pain and despair had to be crushing his soul.

“I can take it just fine, buddy.” He finally answered. And he could. He would gratefully accept anything Michael bestowed upon him if it might help his friend even for a night.

Michael, as Damien half expected, didn't make the first move.

“You want me to suck you?” Damien asked after a beat, kneeling between his friend’s powerful thighs.

Michael grabbed his head and pulled him close enough that his breath was warming Damien's lips. “I wanna fuck you, this time.” He was breathing fast like he was fighting or already fucking. “And I don't think I can take it easy, mate. Do you… need any prep? Anything?”

“With you, hell yes.” Damien still remembered the monster the guy was hiding in his pants.

“Don't think I've got…”

“Wait here. I'll be back.” He said and added before closing the door, “Don't drink anymore, buddy, okay?”

The thing was, with Michael’s monster dick Damien needed professional prep. Your household spit/lotion hack was never that good of an alternative, but it wasn't gonna cut it even close this time. Especially, the way the Brit was gunning for a fuck. Luckily, Damien had been in similar situations before. 

 

 

 

By the time his door was knocked, he already had cleaned himself -in and out, and was pushing multiple digits into his asshole to relax the muscles. It could've been such a fucking sexy thing to do with a partner, but with Stonebridge being still deep in the closet, he didn't wanna risk it. He picked up the silicone lube the concierge brought in, paid with a well deserved tip, and found himself in front of Mikey's room within a minute of the door knock. His fear of finding Michael pretending that their last conservation never happened dissolved when the guy opened the door before Damien could announce his arrival.

“What took you so long?” He asked, wearing only his jeans which were hanging loosely on his hip bones; baring those delectable pelvic muscles that made Damien's teeth ache with desire. Fuck, he was gorgeous. And he fucking knew it, bastard.

“Got some good stuff.” He shook the little bag before taking out the black bottle. “It's gonna get us going as long as you want, buddy.” He added while shrugging off his clothes.

As he guessed, Michael bended him over the bed without skipping a beat. “Stay like this.” He said, voice already rasped.

“Use more than enough lube, Mikey.” Damien felt the need to remind the guy. “The more is better.” He, then realized Michael was struggling to put on a condom. “I think we've bled on each other enough times to skip that, no?”

“I didn't use protection with Chi Chi-”

"Buddy! They gave us clean bill of health today. Seriously?” Tonight wasn't folding as Damien had expected: No talks, all grunts, full of lust. What he got was more of an old married couple’s weekly scheduled fuck: Plans, talks, explanations.

“I hate this brand anyway.” Mikey finally threw away the plastic package.

“Jesus!” cried Damien, Michael apparently decided to finish all that discussion by pushing right into him. “Fuck me!”

“That's the idea, mate.” grunted Michael, his dick creating a nice, roomy path for itself inside Damien's gut. Inch, by inch, by even more fucking inch.

“Give me a minute.” Damien begged ‘cause he was feeling that the fucking thing was already pushing into his fucking lungs. “I need to breathe.”

"Pull your knee up.” Michael nudged Damien's right leg onto the bed while the left stayed straight on the floor. “Keep breathing and push your ass out while exhaling.”

“The fuck!” Was he ended up in a documentary on a safe and sane big dick sex? “You wanna lecture- Jesus fucking fuck!” Now, Michael was in even deeper and Damien hoped to hell that there wasn't any more dick left to host inside his gut.

“Just like that. I'll take it slow… at the beginning.” Michael whispered as if talking to a scared girl or a wounded animal.

Damien wanted to respond, say something witty and sexy, joke with his partner, but he couldn't. First, he really had to focus on his breathing since that monster practically shrunk his lung size. Also, feeling all that gorgeous muscle  resting on his skin was overwhelming to say the least.

“How long you wanted my dick, Scott?” Michael asked whispering to his ears; his hard nipples dragging across Damien's back each time he moved, slowly and steady. “Did it start when we were in that cave or earlier?”

“What the hell, man?” He might be taking up in the ass; didn't mean he turned into a girl talking about feelings and shit.

“Just tell me.” Michael thrusted harder to emphasize that he was the boss right now and Damien’s resolve was lost, together with his balls apparently.

“I don't know… Since the beginning… Jesus, go slow, fuck… but after watching you-”

“I wasn't sure if you were watching me or her.”

“Her.. You… Both. Jesus, Mikey, please.”

“Already begging? I thought you said you could take it.” The smug bastard chuckled. “Don't worry mate, it'll get better soon. I'm gonna fuck you slow until you’re wide open. Then, I'm gonna fuck you real good.” He was already speeding up; his hips hitting Damien's with gradually increasing force. “When I fill you up, you're gonna taste me in your fucking mouth.” His huge hand moved across Damien's body, from his pelvis all the way up to his neck. “You’re gonna taste me for days.” He emphasized by squeezing Damien's neck a little. Then, he increased his speed even more, his balls hitting Damien's in slow, light taps. “You're gonna feel me for days too. I'm gonna make you mine.” His other hand was holding Damien on the hip, tight enough to leave bruises, possessive bastard. “Oh, yeah, you can take it.”

And Damien could. The overwhelming fullness was fading, leaving its place to overwhelming lust. “Fuck.. fuck!”

“Go ahead. Move your butt. Twerk it a little. Open up more for me.” And Damien listened, like a good boy soldier, he did as ordered. “I always had to be careful with women. Don't have to be with you, right? You're gonna take me like a fucking man, right? Right?”

“Yes, yes, yes.. fuck, yes. God, Mikey…”

Damien loved sex. The way his blood boiled with passion, the way he could get to taste another body, share the sweet euphoria with another soul... But, this was something else. He felt like he was high on some really good stuff. The urgency in him too heavy, the need overwhelming everything else. He wanted to come, right away. He wanted…

“No hands.” Michael grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his dick. “You can come like this. Eventually, anyway. We're just starting.”

Damien wanted to say he couldn't come like that, he wasn't no woman for fuck’s sake. But he choked on his words when Michael changed the way he pushed. That dick, now, was dragging over his prostate, pushing on and on, making him lose his mind with pleasure. While he didn't have as much experience in taking dick, he had been under enough men to know that what he was feeling wasn't that common. Maybe he really was a size queen.

Michael pulled Damien's head with a giant paw, bending his neck open and whispered right into his ear, “That night in the cave. Did you know she made a show of sucking you while I was fucking her? Arranged her head so that I could see whatever she did to you. Everything.” His voice was soft even though he was breathing hard. He slowed down to almost grinding, driving Damien completely mad. “How she sucked you, played with you, fucking fingered you. She made it like a fucking porn movie.”

Damien could feel Michael's abs contracting right on his back. All that glorious muscle brushing his skin and he had to do something. Anything. He tried to catch Mikey's eyes, not an easy feat the way his neck arched. “Mikey…” he wasn't sure what he was asking really. Michael answered by pushing his fingers into Damien's mouth, keeping his jaw open. He then pulled Damien up, holding him tight, one hand in his mouth the other around his belly. They fucked standing straight, a normally impossible position but Mikey's dick was big enough to serve in harsh conditions.

“You're good now?” He asked, his face right next to Damien's; his breath dancing across his neck, plucking a metaphorical string rooted all the way in his balls.

“Jesus, fuck!” Damien was fucked. Both literally and figuratively. He loved this guy. His friend, his buddy, partner… There was no way he could treat this night as a one night stand. He was never going to forget how Michael's breath tasted like when he was panting. Never going to forget the way those hands touched his skin. Never going to forget how he had to fight against the deep desire to kiss him. He was fucked.

“If you're not up to it, you gotta tell me, mate. Because I wanna fuck you. Fuck you good. Fuck you fast. Tell me now.” Michael gasped out the words.

“Give me your best, buddy.” He answered, there wasn't any other option, really.

Michael moved them both onto the bed and kneeled behind him in doggy style. He started slow, increasing the speed and power gradually. Both hands holding Damien tight right at his hips, pulling him close while pushing inside him, doubling the impact of his thrusts. Michael had been right; Damien was going to feel him for days and not only in his ass, but with his whole body.

“I wanted to fuck you since that night.” He grunted without losing power of his thrusts. “When you sucked my balls, tongued my ass... I wanted to pull out of her and push into your fucking mouth.” His hips were now moving faster than ever, making Damien forget how to breathe or how to understand fucking English language. “Push all the way in, plugging that dirty mouth, filling you up.”

He kept talking but Damien couldn't comprehend the words anymore. He simply took it, moving with Mikey, accepting his dick, welcoming him.

“Mikey, please…”

And a hand finally touched his dick, finally, and Damien came. He shot all the way up to the wall, his dick pulsing and squirting. Pushing everything in his balls out in tandem with Michael's onslaught as if that dick was pumping out his balls. It didn't stop. He kept coming in small spurts, until he was empty; completely and wonderfully empty. He fell down on the bed, his arms refusing to carry him any longer. Michael slowed down, then stopped.

“You want a break?” He asked breathing heavy on top of Damien. “Or you wanna stop?”

“Mikey…” he wanted to explain how as a guy he couldn't get another orgasm. How it was biological that he was done. How it had nothing to do how much he wanted him. He, then, looked at Stonebridge, sitting on his heels, gorgeously naked. Sweaty and breathless but at the same time all his muscles bulging with their recent activity. Damien was never going to forget how beautiful he looked either.  “Nah, just need a minute.”

He laid on his back, trying to control his breathing, to inhale long enough to actually get some air in his lungs. “You are like the energiser bunny, huh, buddy? Keep on going.” He said with a smile. He actually appreciated good stamina in his bedmates; his own usually too much due to his excessive training for most of the population. That's why he mostly stuck to women; he could do the heavy lifting with ladies with no problem.

“It's the curse of having a big cock.” Michael responded, not that Damien had expected an answer. “When we started, Kerry… she was a tiny girl. I had to learn how to go on real slow until she was mellow enough for me to move without hurting her. It kinda stuck.”

Damien's dick gave a tentative flick; on the way to softening and too exhausted from it's earlier orgasm, but still excited about the promised fuck. Michael didn't miss it. “Seems like you're ready.”

Damien rolled back to assume his position only to be stopped by Stonebridge. “Like this.” He raised an eyebrow instead of asking aloud and Mikey nodded, “I'm sure… unless…”

“No, I'm good.” He bit on the ‘ _ perfect’ _ ; there was no need to show how deep he had fallen.

Michael stretched out on top of him, busy re-lubing his dick which gave Damien ample opportunity to watch the guy to his heart's desire.

He inhaled sharply when Michael's dick passed his abused and most probably inflamed muscles.

“Don't worry.” Michael tried soothing him, “I'll be careful, go slowly.” He was already balls deep inside Damien, filling an achy emptiness deep in his body and soul. But he moved lazily; long dicking Damien with sure strokes that managed to arouse him even after his spectacular orgasm.

Damien looked up then, catching Michael's eyes. “You're an amazing lay, buddy.” He said, instead of what he really wanted to say. But Michael's eyes were all seeing apparently because he dropped his head so that their lips were almost touching.

“I’m right here, mate.” He, then, kissed Damien; exactly like Damien had imagined: All possessive, full passion, juicy and delicious. Michael Stonebridge didn't do anything in half.

His dick was struggling to get up, pushing into that magnificent abs even though his balls were aching. His hands were free to roam on Mikey's back now, all the way from his wide shoulders to chiseled butt. He pulled Michael in deeper by holding onto those magnificent globes; massaging them, fondling them. Michael's thrusts were getting frantic now. He was grunting, panting and shaking; his orgasm seemingly coming a mile away. Damien could tell the exact moment Michael ejaculated since the guy bit him right in the neck, leaving probably the mother of all hickeys.

When Michael finished coming and dropped next to him, satisfaction was all Damien felt. Soul deep satisfaction.

“You'll take care of yourself, right?” Michael said when his breathing slowed down a bit, his eyes trained on the ceiling. Was it a goodbye? Should Damien leave with a joke? Before he could finish processing the words Michael continued, “Don't die on me, mate.”

“What?”

Stonebridge turned toward him, then. “As long as you come back breathing, I'll be here. For a drink or a fuck…” He waited for a spell, “or more…”

“Are you asking me into a gay relationship?”

“I swore off women, remember. And don't do one night stands.”

Yeah, Damien remembered; both.

“Are you sure it isn't because how a great lay I was?” He asked with a grin so deep that it was hurting his face. “I tend to have that effect on people.”

“Which one, the desire to strangle you?” Michael answered, his face mirroring Damien's grin.

“Asshole!”

“Prick!”

 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think?


End file.
